Phoenix and Neil were a happy couple who had only just recently discovered how exciting the hotwife lifestyle could be. Neil wasn’t worried about any potential pitfalls. Phoenix in all her stunning beauty had always made Neil feel like he was the only man for her. That was until Anthony, his step-brother from another mother, came to visit. Neil is white, Anthony is Black. Neil is a big guy and good-looking, Anthony is bigger and better looking. Suddenly Neil wasn’t so sure about anything, let alone his choice in encouraging Phoenix to explore her sexual power not all that long ago.
Book 2 of the B.R. Saiph Obsidian Collection contains scenes of interracial cuckolding.
Trevor has only been dating Sophia for a short while and hasn’t yet made it much past first base. Though both are recently divorced and him more than ready to move on, she hasn’t wanted to rush things. With a big weekend planned of showing off his outdoor skills, Trevor is confident he will finally hit a home run.
He thought he had the best of gear, and the best of plans, until everything went horribly wrong. A wind-swept landscape can be cold and unforgiving, but it’s nothing compared to the chill of a pissed off city girl lost in the woods.
Desperate and defeated, they had given up all hope, until they meet Nelson. Tall, very dark, and handsome, and offering them refuge from the storm.
Is it angst when I am actually looking forward to the cuckolding experience? This is unique to the individual for sure, but I myself would have to say yes. However, for me (now) it doesn’t hold any negative connotation. For me, there are many aspects of the experience that reverberate the very strings of my soul as it unfolds each time. In the beginning it was a brutal cacophony of discordant emotions as harsh reality slammed mercilessly into the foggy haze of something long anticipated but in my naivety not yet understood. The resulting and unexpected awakening of the ugly beast that lurks within us all, known as jealous insecurity, almost derailed our foray into the lifestyle before it had barely begun. I wanted him to kiss her, I was angry that she kissed him back. I wanted him to fuck her, I was hurt that she enjoyed it so much when he did. I wanted him to take her away to somewhere she’d never been, I was crushed when I was left behind (if only for moments at a time)
Luckily for me, I have been blessed with an amazing woman to share this journey with. With her patient love and understanding the music changed. The harsh sounds were muted. The chaos was tamed. The thuggish paws of jealousy twanging like a simpleton on those strings morphed into dexterous digits delicately plucking each note in glorious syncopation with the rhythm of lust we both yearned to dance to. The angst remains but now it is a beautiful thing. When he kisses her, I want her to kiss him back like he’s never been kissed before. When he fucks her, I yearn for her to let herself go and make primal noises that I could never elicit from her. When he takes her away, I smile with joy, wishing her bon voyage on her trip around the world.
I crave the angst but now savor it like a fine wine, whereas I once gulped it down like a drunkard does cheap ale, oblivious to all the delightful undertones that are there waiting to be explored. For me the angst is like Her finger nails lightly brushing over my naked skin, sending delicious shivers down my back. Those finger nails could draw blood, could exact pain but instead they deliver pleasure. I have learned to trust, to close my eyes and let go, and know that She will never hurt me and in doing so, let the music carry me away.
Angst can mean many things, but in the hands of a skillful cuckoldress, it is an elixir of love.
I crashed hard overnight.
“What could this guy possibly be going on about?” you say with incredulous exasperation.
“He’s locked down hard, he’s cuckolded, he gets fucking corner time for cryin’ out loud. What’s the problem?!”
You know, it doesn’t really matter, what matters is how my amazing ‘S’ handled it, and me.
And this is what separates the wannabes from the masters of the art of the human dynamic.
She gave me space, then she knew, she knew when to move in. The physical touch, the mental caress of her voice, the surety of her love for me and all that is US.
When we were done, the things said and the tears shed, the intimacy rejoiced and the spent satisfaction afterwards, I was left breathless.
Not in exhaustion, though it had been physically demanding, no it was in wonder, pure friggin’ wonder at this woman who knows me more than I know myself, and who time and again shows me what true love is.
The lifestyle has much to offer, and I’ve never felt more alive, but it can never be ‘Set It And Forget It’.
You’re living on the edge is some ways, and it’s exhilarating beyond belief, and I’ve no regrets, but it’s intense at times. Only a skillful woman can successfully help her man be all that he can be for Her.